I’ll sleep soundly when I’m dead

Is there fear in your excitement

like a newly unearthed coffin

You can see it from a distance

like a nearsighted eye witness

It comes creeping through the window

you left open while you sleep

Like an unsuspecting victim

you roll over just to see

There’s a shadow in the doorway

sending shivers down your spine

Like a child on a big wheel

cup your hands over your eyes

When you finally build the courage

to admit you’ve lost your mind

There’s just air and heavy breathing

feels like you’ve got the shine

Now you’re choked up glass of water

who left on the kitchen light

And you swear there’s no one listening

still you check the corner twice

Cause it’s somewhere between 3 and 4

the hour’s devil’s prime

It’s the fear in your excitement

in the background of your mind

Monday morning tired pouring

rain falls cold upon your head

It’s a new day maybe Tuesday

I’ll sleep soundly when I’m dead

Wednesday Thursday afternoon

blurs into Friday I’m still wet

From the tears of Saturday’s gone by

Sunday’s a day of rest?

So don’t fight it just accept it

that to fall asleep is hard

When your dreams feel like the raven

and your mind a tell-tale heart

There’s a shrill cry in the alley

that you wish now to explore

It just proves that other’s trauma

spreads itself like works of art.

oblivion different reasons

Myself

explored expressed explained

oblivion different reasons

over and over and over again

exposing what I’m feeling

though it never really quite makes sense

unless there’s someone healing

who kind of sort of gets the gist

and cradles their own meaning.

rawhide

I’ve tried on many different skins

and ended up in this one,

stretched at the waist

twisted and torn

ready and willingly

back for more, more, and more

staples and stitches

dimples for dimes

tenderly oiling this rawhide of mine.

Walking among Redwoods

I never stood a chance in the landscape of her eyes

that green mountain range overlooking cloudy skies

but I walked a long while to get to where I’ve been

and I’ll walk a little longer regardless of the wind.

Is it better to escape like a dove into the light

or give into the darkness which creeps in from the night?

There’s something in the hills, either way I’m headed down

as I stream into the valley, with the current I am now

free from all the heartache, I barely make a sound

with the roots of the sequoia among the ancient ground.

Clarity

Perhaps

The only true clarity

Is that

Among madness